The Other Side
by White Fedora
Summary: AU. Earth is a desolate battlefield. The Warriors are a forgotten legend. But when the daughter of the Scrollkeeper has visions into the past...is the key to the end of the war, and the return of the warriors, buried there, in the forgotten years?
1. A Code of Honor

**This is my first Warriors story! It takes place 1,000 years into the future (AU world). The cats seen here are not cats from the series, but it is a good OC/AU story if you're looking for one.**

* * *

A wearied sun slipped beneath a rosy pink horizon dotted with fluffy white clouds and framed by mountain peaks. Late birdcalls drifted past shuttered windows, closed doors, and sealed shops as their songwriters fluttered past all of these resting homes. Province: Truth was closing for the night.

Only two small, lean shapes loitered on the stone paths as they made their slow way home, one small and tabby-striped, the other hunched and brown.

"Dad, when we get home, where did you want me to put those scrolls?" the tabby feline asked, turning her warm amber eyes on her companion.

The Scrollkeeper looked at her thoughtfully before he shook his head, his yellow eyes tired.

"Don't worry about them, Mainstream. We can deal with it tomorrow." he sighed, his voice wheezy and grating against his throat.

Mainstream nodded and rubbed her head along the Scrollkeeper's shoulder, smiling in an understanding way.

"Alright, if you're sure." she said. Then she turned her gaze skywards and they both fell silent.

In a few minutes they reached the opening to their home, a small, partially-obscured hole covered by an old door. A sign above the door read: "Martin's Books." The two cats squeezed through the hole and entered into the room beyond.

One's first impression would be that the deserted store was dusty. The second: cluttered. The third: very, very, _very _cluttered. The old shelves were piled high with leatherbound and paperback books, along with hardbacks, pocket books, journals, and just a lot of books in general. The entire place was coated in a dusty brown, which partially aided to the Scrollkeeper's actual name, Dustypelt.

The two cats skirted the decrepit wooden counter and headed towards the back wall, every bit as ancient as the rest of the store. There was another hole in the wall, but it was smaller than the entrance, and the path to and from it was clean and free of dust, as if used often. When Mainstream and Dustypelt had gone through, they were in acomparatively smaller, neater room. Short, squat shelves and wide-stepped stools stood here and there, and there was a refreshing lack of dust here. One of the most interesting things in here, though, were the rolls of parchment scattered at random. They were all very small, perfectly suited for cats.

Immediately, Dustypelt leaped onto a small, flat table and busied himself with a scroll that lay open on the surface. Mainstream dawdled around the shelves, nosing through scrolls marked with dates, signatures, and names with interest.

She pulled one out, and the title read "The Warrior Code." Of course, the letterings were in feline written language, pawform. She carried the small scroll to another table and opened it, nudging paperweights made of rock onto the corners to hold it closed. She sat down on the table and started to read.

**The Code of the Clans**

I. Defend your Clan, even with your life. You may have friendships with cats from other Clans, but your loyalty must remain to your Clan, as one day you may meet them in battle.

II. Do not hunt or trespass on another Clan's territory.

III. Elders, queens, and kits must be fed before apprentices and warriors. Unless they have permission, apprentices may not eat until they have hunted to feed the elders. If any warrior or apprentice is sick or injured, they may eat while the elders, queens, and kits are eating.

IV. Prey is killed only to be eaten. Give thanks to StarClan for its life.

V. A kit must be at least six moons old to become an apprentice.

VI. Newly appointed warriors will keep a silent vigil for one night after receiving their warrior name.

VII. A cat cannot be made deputy without having mentored at least one apprentice.

VIII. The deputy will become Clan leader when the leader dies or retires.

IX. After the death or retirement of the deputy, the new deputy must be chosen before moonhigh.

X. A Gathering of all four eight Clans is held at the full moon during a truce that lasts for the night. There shall be no fighting among Clans at this time.

XI. Boundaries must be checked and marked daily. Challenge all trespassing cats.

XII. No warrior can neglect a kit in pain or danger, even if the kit is from a different Clan.

XIII. The word of the Clan leader is the warrior code.

XIV. An honorable warrior does not need to kill other cats to win his/her battles, unless they are outside the warrior code or if it is necessary for self-defense.

XV. A warrior rejects the soft life of a kittypet.

Mainstream had read all of this many times before, but there was just a strange chill that went up her spine as she read each rule, each law over. The warriors, the cat-heroes of the past, the very _embodiments _of freedom had lived by this Code.

But that was a long, long time ago. Over a thousand years had passed since the warriors had walked the world.

Now that world they left behind, which should have been a paradise of freedom and justice, was war-torn, blood-stained, and empty of hope. The warrior way of life was now a fading fairy tale in the eyes of the kits, a broken echo in the ears of the elders, a wearied dream in the mind of Mainstream and Dustypelt. "Dad...why aren't there any warriors anymore?" Mainstream asked sadly as she rolled up the parchment.

Dustypelt looked up at her thoughtfully, before his own eyes were veiled in sadness and he sighed.

"Because, Mainstream, the world is a cruel place. There is no honor, no chivalry...all pride has been diminished. We cats fight other cats not for prey or territory anymore...we fight because it's the only way to keep some sort of hope alive. Maybe, if we fight hard enough, and shed enough blood, the world is going to change for the better." he said. His last sentence was layered with cynical sarcasm; he knew that was no way to achieve peace.

"Even this city, Province: Truth, is a lie. There is no truth here. A soldier in the War is the same as an impoverished cat on the street. The Province is the perfect embodiment of irony." he went on, "I wish the world of the warrior had never faded too, Mainstream. But we should glean some comfort from the fact that we are the only ones who know of it, who understand it. You, me, and all of your friends."

At the mention of her friends Mainstream looked up.

"Oh right...I forgot we had shown them the Old Records." she said, "Rushgale, Cloudstorm, and Fallshade...they all know too."

Her amber eyes reflecting the light of the candles gave a strange light to her eyes as she looked at her father and asked, "Dad...if there was a way..._some _way we could make the rest of the world see that the warrior's way of life is the _right _way of life...could we change it?"

Dustypelt looked at his child with sadness and shook his head.

"It is good to dream," he said, "but I fear the world is too wrapped up in its problems and falsehoods to pay attention and learn."

He looked out the one window in the room and sighed, "It is late. I am going to sleep. Good night, Mainstream."

Mainstream watched her father douse his candle and leave through another hole to his chambers, and Mainstream was left staring at the roll of parchment, sitting so forlornly in a patch of silver moonshine.

"Warriors," she whispered hollowly, dispirited by her father's despair, "...you left too soon."

Then she too, doused her candle flame, put away the Code, and squeezed through the hole after her father. He was already sleeping peacefully on an old feather pillow but Mainstream still stayed awake. Her bed was located on the windowsill, staring out at the night skies, and she took a seat there to watch the night.

She stayed like that for a long time, her mind spinning with thoughts, before she saw the moon inching towards the horizon. At that, she lay down on her own pillow and was soon embraced by sleep.


	2. The Fall of Honor

The next morning dawned on Mainstream, who saw the sun's first rays and awoke. She rose troubled, and stretched on the windowsill. She had had a strange dream last night, but for some reason, as she tried to recapture it, it only faded further. Only one word kept coming into mind, and whether or not is was her own mind that had formed it, she couldn't help an ominous feeling whenever she thought of it.

Dream.

That was the word, dream! Of _course _it had been a dream, but she didn't know what it meant. Actually...the more she thought about it, the more it started to look like a post-dream response, just something to distract her.

Satisfied, Mainstream leaped off of her sill and onto the soft wooden floor. Making her quiet way across to the entrance of the den, she slipped out and approached the other shelves. She didn't wish to wake her father yet...there were a few Old Records she wanted to look at.

The Old Records-the only known logs of the Warriors Era-were all stored in a small chest located at the back of the Scrollroom. Only the current Scrollkeeper and his children knew how to open the chest. So, it was with confidence that Mainstream strode across the room to the rather unimpressive chest and bent her head. She stroked the side with her nose and with a small click, the lid popped open. She dug into the chest and resurfaced with five small scrolls in her mouth, and all enscribed with pawform. These were small annals like "The Eight Clans," "Stories of the Age," "Clan Cats by Generation," "The New Era," and the one she was most interested in: "The Fall of Honor."

She took all five scrolls to her table and unraveled "The Fall of Honor" with her nose. Standing on the edges of the parchment to hold it open, she studied it. She had read it before, but she wanted to do it again. It was all about the late 2070's, which had been when the humans killed each other off in their fourth world war. By some twisted fate, America, Europe, Africa, and Asia had all dropped their atomic bombs on each other on the same day. The aftershocks had affected Australia and South America as well, and the radiation effectively killed the human race. The treasure troves of knowledge and technology they left behind had been discovered by and adapted for cats to use. For the longest time, the world was at peace.

That all changed when the Legacy was formed.

The Legacy was one of the driving forces of NWWI (New World War I). Legacy cats were an upper-class, aristocratic, _intelligent _bunch that believed they held all of the secrets to utopia for their lesser-educated rivals, the Faction. This was hardly true, to be fair. Mainstream _and _Dustypelt were cats of the Faction, and they jointly held on to one of the largest collections of history and knowledge known to cat kind.

Anyways, the Legacy's first leader, King Tobias of Felidae, had challenged the first Faction leader, Truthseeker, for her control over the Provincial Lands (the old name for the entire Faction country). Truthseeker had, of course, refused, and her refusal provoked Tobias into attack. That had been in the 2500's. The Legacy had won the first NWW, and the war they were in was NWWIII, the effective "tiebreaker" of the wars. In the late 2700's, Faction rebels formed the Brotherhood of Liberation, and they won back the Faction's land and freedom after a ten-year-long war. The Faction hero of _this _age was Wingseeker, and every Faction leader after him was given the title "Seeker." The Legacy leader then had been Queen Kentrite of Silverdowns.

There was a long gap between post-NWWII 2790 and the war of 3048, the current war. Mainstream had searched the entire Scrollroom time and time again, looking for the missing decades, but to no avail.

"The Fall" skipped that entire 'Missing Era' completely, as if the author (Fennel of Denizinite) knew nothing of it either. And the cats that had lived through it were either unreachable or dead.

From there, "The Fall" talked about the rise of Freedomseeker Brave, the current Faction leader, and King Trisaldo, current Legacy leader. There was a very small snippet about "Heir Meteor," Trisaldo's son, but Mainstream didn't pay it any mind. It ended with the phrase, "...to this day, the war goes on. It looks as if peace is a long way away."

She let the parchment roll back into place and jumped off the desk. Her head was still swimming with the information she had been reading since dawn, and it was now noon.

A small voice behind her scared her so much she jumped off the table.

"Having fun, brainiac?"

Mainstream suddenly found herself on the floor with her fur standing on end, but she visibly relaxed when she saw who had disturbed her. It was a dusty-brown tom with sparkling green eyes, eyes that Mainstream found very familiar.

"Hey Rushgale! Hey Cloudstorm and Fallshade!" she exclaimed, standing up.

"Good morning, miss Mainstream!" Cloudstorm beamed, his brown eyes warm and laughing, "How are you?"

Mainstream couldn't help but chuckle at the smaller, younger tom's mannerisms, and she nodded formally to him.

"Very well, Cloudstorm. And Fallshade, how have _you _been?" she asked, directing her attention to the dark brown tabby she-cat who hung out on the fringes of the group.

Fallshade's large yellow eyes blinked owlishly up at her friend before she said, "Same as ever. Been studying up on your warriors again?"

Mainstream nodded and pulled herself back up onto her table to show them the scrolls.

"Yep. I got the Old Records out again and I just finished with The Fall of Honor." she said.

Rushgale looked at her briefly before he asked, "Isn't that the third time you've read it? What are you looking for?"

Mainstream sighed and pointed to the scroll.

"The Missing Era...it's bugging me. That's over 200 years missing from history, and there's no clue as to what happened or _where _the Missing Era log _is!_" she said.

She paused, and added, "If there even _is _one of course..."

Cloudstorm sighed.

"Well...worrying about it won't help," he said reasonably, "where's Dustypelt? I haven't seen him."

"He's sleeping." Mainstream told him, nodding to their den, "And I want to go for a walk. Want to come with?"

They all did, and Mainstream stopped to write out a short note to her parent, telling him where she was.

_Hey Dad, we went out for a walk. We'll be back soon._

"Alright, let's go!" she said after placing the note on his desk where he could easily find it. The group shuffled out of the hole in single-file and were soon out and about in the bright, sunny city of their Province.


	3. The Warriors Den

Chapter Three - The Warriors Den

The sun was up and shining brightly on the four young cats as they pushed themselves out onto the streets of Province: Truth. And what a change the city was compared to its nighttime alter ego!

The cobblestone streets were lined with furry pelts and small wooden carts, their owners standing next to them, peddling food and supplies like mice, squirrels, and thin strands of twine. Fallshade shrank from all of the cats, her eyes dark and fiery, but the others _loved _the midday marketplace. Cloudstorm was popular among the merchants and he was constantly offered deals and discounts on various items, but he politely refused them all. Mainstream was interested in the book stands, always looking for something about the warriors, but always coming up with nothing. But still, they all had a fun time browsing through the shops of the Bazaar until they had exited the crowded street for one of the quieter back-alleys.

"Do you want to go the place?" Mainstream whispered to her companions. All of them nodded eagerly and Fallshade's ears pricked up, excited.

"Yeah! Come on, let's go!" she said before breaking from the group to run down an alley called "Whisker Street".

The others followed her quickly as she led them down the street and past various obstacles, as if her paws knew instinctively what to do and where to go. They jumped over barrels, ducked around crates, dodged cats on the sidewalks, and even threaded their way across a roof once or twice before Fallshade stopped short in front of a rooftop door, her eyes alight with joy. She loved nothing more than traveling the streets she had lived on her whole life. The city was hers and she was the city's; it was like they were connected.

"Here we are. Welcome to the Warrior's Den!" she announced, pushing open the door into the room beyond.

At some point in time, it had been a rooftop garden. But now, the young cats had adapted it into their own little getaway, a place that only they knew about and that only they knew the route to. Potted plants hanging from the ceilings had sprouted and flourished over the years, bursting their pots and sending beautiful green tendrils of foliage sprawling across the floor. Flowers and bushes planted along the walls had overwhelmed their borders too, and now grew everywhere. Roses, lilacs, orchids, and all manner of breathtaking plantlife only added to the visual majesty of the hideaway. And in a few of the larger, leafy tendrils and vines, nests had been made. Fallshade's was in a shadowed corner in the shade of a bush, and her nest was lined with orchid petals. Rushgale's was by the open wall, where a storm had blown in and knocked down the glass some years back. They had cleared the glass out already, but Rushgale still loved the feel of the wind while he rested; _his _nest was lined with heather plants. Cloudstorm's was in a small "glade" in the greenhouse, surrounded on three sides by bushes with only a small opening to let him in, and he slept on a bed of moss he had found growing on the bark of one of the bushes. Finally, Mainstream's nest was lined with reeds and placed beside the only water source in the room: a little pond that filled up with water from an underground pipe and drained out of a hole in the wall.

They all took their seats in their respective nests and started talking about odd things like the weather, the town, the marketplace, and just general conversation. But after a short while of talking about nothing, Mainstream finally posed the question.

"So...what do you guys think about the warriors?" she asked. Immediately, she had the attention of everyone.

Rushgale was the first to answer after some brief consideration:

"I like the stories you tell a lot. All about the eight clans, their way of life, and even their old fairy-tales like the story of Firestar, the Great Journey, and Scourge but...is that life even possible here?" he asked.

"I love the stories too, Mainstream," Cloudstorm said, "I think the warriors had the right idea when they lived here. Fight only to survive, and not for power."

Mainstream smiled at him and then looked quizzically at Fallshade, who had yet to answer.

Fallshade looked from cat to cat, all waiting for her to answer, and sighed.

"Look...I like stories about noble warriors who fought for their family and their Clans as much as the next cat, but let's face it. The world is at war. There is no honor here. Heck, even that scroll you read so much had the right idea. 'The Fall of Honor' pretty much sums up what's happened in the last thousand years." she said.

"But what about StarClan?" Mainstream asked.

Fallshade looked at her and sighed again.

"If StarClan was real, they wouldn't have let the warriors die. They wouldn't have let the world fall apart. Mainstream...it's just not possible." she told her.

"I think that's where you're wrong." Cloudstorm said boldly, and all eyes turned to him.

"The world _is _pretty broken, yes, but that doesn't mean we can't do something about it. We have the knowledge, and we _have _the courage; let's show the world who the warriors are."

Mainstream's smile brightened.

"Yeah! That's what we have to do!" she exclaimed, but Rushgale and Fallshade still weren't convinced.

"But Cloudstorm..." Rushgale said gently, "What can we do? We're four young, unknown cats in a great big, judgmental, prideful world. No one will listen...no one will care. We can't change anything. We might make cats think a bit differently, but it still won't matter."

"No, Rushgale!" Cloudstorm said firmly, "Wherever there's a listening set of ears, we can make a change!"

"I agree!" Mainstream exclaimed, "Cloudstorm's right! We can make a change!"

Fallshade and Rushgale still didn't believe them, but neither pressed the issue. When _both _Cloudstorm and Mainstream got serious about something, it was best to just leave them to it.

"Alright, and what do you suppose we do?" Rushgale sighed, defeated.

"First of all, we should learn everything we can about warrior life, even stuff we already know. We have to arm ourselves for anything and everything when we start telling the Province about the warriors." Mainstream said.

"_WHAT?" _Fallshade screeched, shocked, "You're actually planning to go _public _with this? We're going to _preach _to cats?"

"Not preach, explain." Cloudstorm told her, "_Explain, _not preach. There's a huge difference."

"And pre-step one would be to get my dad to give me the key to unlocking the rest of the Old Records. The five I always read are the only ones he _lets _me read. He says I have to wait until I'm old enough to understand them before he gives them to me." Mainstream said.

"Alright then." Rushgale said, "Let's go talk to him. I'm sure he'll say yes."

"No."

"But Dad-!"

"No."

"Please?"

"_No, _Mainstream. And I won't say it again." Dustypelt said firmly, "This idea of yours won't work, and I won't allow you to make a fool of yourself and give you the other Old Records."

"How do you know it won't work? Why are you doing this, what don't you want me to see in those Records?" Mainstream asked challengingly.

"I know it won't work because the world won't listen, I am doing this because you aren't ready, and that does _not _concern you." Dustypelt growled, answering all three queries in quick succession.

But Mainstream wouldn't go down so easily and she hissed, "It's got to concern me if you don't want me to read them! What's _in _those records?"

"They do _not _concern you, Mainstream. Now I am ordering you to drop the subject. You shouldn't meddle in things that have nothing to do with you." Dustypelt told her and he turned to go back to the den.

"The war is threatening everyone, dad." Mainstream said quietly, "We're included in it too. This has everything to do with me, you, and the rest of the world. But if you don't want to help...fine."

There was the soft sound of Mainstream's pawsteps fading through the shop and she left her father and her friends behind. Rushgale, Fallshade, and Cloudstorm had been very quiet during this entire argument, feeling they should both leave and stay to back up their friend. Now they looked at each other uneasily as Dustypelt sighed and went back to the den. The Scrollroom was empty now, save for them.

"...I knew this wasn't a good idea." Fallshade sighed as she made her way to the entrance, "Come on, let's go look for her."

They soon found her back in the Warriors Den, where she had curled up into a small ball in her nest. She radiated misery and hopelessness of a degree that her friends were almost hesitant to go in and see her.

After a few minutes, Cloudstorm ventured in, stepping neatly over the vines and sprawling plants until his small pawsteps carried him to Mainstream's side.

"...Mainstream?" he asked tentatively, "Are you okay?"

Mainstream looked at him, her eyes dark and saddened, and shook her head.

"No...I just don't understand why he's so against this. How can he possibly know it won't work...and why doesn't he want me to read the Records?" she questioned.

"He's just concerned for your wellbeing, Mainstream," Rushgale said as he approached, "he doesn't want to see you hurt."

"I won't _get _hurt, Rushgale. He just doesn't understand that." Mainstream told him.

"You don't know if you won't be hurt."

"I _won't!_"

"Enough!" Fallshade had arrived, stepping between the feuding cats as she snapped at both of them, "Fighting won't get us anywhere! We've been fighting for one thousand years and all it's done is ruin lives! Enough!"

Her fur was bristling and her eyes were blazing with such fury that neither of them dared to say another word. Mainstream shrank back into her nest and wanted to sleep, so the others retired to their own nests to rest for a while. Cloudstorm paced in tight circles in his mossy bed while Rushgale looked vaguely out the window that bordered _his _nest. Fallshade was left to curl up underneath her bush and send her fierce yellow gaze about the room, on the watch for more scuffles. But no one wanted to fight anymore; Cloudstorm and Rushgale fell asleep at about the same time, and Fallshade's eyes closed and she relaxed at the same time that Mainstream's breathing had shifted into deep, rhythmic rising and falling. Very soon, every cat was in a deep slumber.


	4. Dream

_It was dark. And very, very quiet. _

_ Clouds completely covered the moon, blocking off all light, and for a heartbeat Mainstream thought that she had fallen into a pit. But then she felt a sudden presence of other cats, _familiar _cats, and she looked around._

_ She was confused; she didn't know these cats! There was one yellow tom who looked painfully like Cloudstorm, but when he turned his head, his eyes weren't the same soft brown that Cloudstorm's were. And as Mainstream watched, she saw that he was older than Cloudstorm._

_ He was staring intently at something up ahead, and Mainstream turned her head around to see what._

_ She was shocked to see the clouds whirl overhead and small, glowing speckles of light danced down from the skies and floated away from each other to different parts of the area, which turned out to be a dark meadow. The specks of light hovered in their chosen places for a moment before soft, dim light gathered around them and the vague shapes of cats could be formed. As Mainstream watched, each glow of light attained an actual coat color and eyes, and some acquired scars._

_ "Cats of StarClan," a dark brown tom said, "the time has come."_

_ Mainstream felt her heart start to beat fast. Did he say _StarClan?

_"A new prophecy has been seen. Snowingash, please explain." the tom said, nodding to a smallish gray cat with cloudy blue eyes. Something about this "Snowingash" reminded Mainstream of Rushgale, but her excitement and wonderment took over and she pushed it from her mind._

_ "Cats of the Clans," Snowingash announced, "the prophecy we have discovered is this: _The stars will fade, honor will die, and the world be plunged into darkness."

_This sent ripples of distress and cries of fear to come from the gathered cats, and even Mainstream felt her eyes grow wide and a wave of surprise wash over her. Suddenly, yellow tom she __noticed before stood up._

_ "What does it mean, Snowingash? How can the stars fade?" he demanded._

_ "The world doesn't need us anymore, Sambawish." Snowingash said sadly, "Honor will die. There is nothing we can do."_

_ "What do you mean 'nothing we can do'? If honor will die and the world will be plunged into darkness, surely we'll be needed now, more than ever?" another tom asked, "Surely StarClan can prevent this?"_

_ "We can do much, Corvus," a pretty ginger she-cat told him, standing up, "but even we cannot forestall fate."_

_ "Sunstar, how can you be sure?" Sambawish asked._

_ Sunstar's expression fazed into sadness for a moment. She hung her head and whispered hoarsely, "...Because we've already tried."_

_ Mainstream was suddenly distracted by a small voice in her ear, and an unseen force tugging her away from the group. She tried to go back, but the force only tugged harder, pulling her away from StarClan._

_ "That's enough," the voice whispered, "you can't do anything here."_

_ Reluctantly, Mainstream turned and followed the voice, which was leading her away from the group onto the starry grounds of StarClan territory._

_ "Who are you?" she asked once the voice had stopped coming, "Where am I? Why am I here?"_

_ "I cannot tell you who I am yet," the voice said quietly, "and you should know where you are. The reason why is simple: you had to see what happened here today. Can you tell me what?"_

_ Mainstream looked at the ground, pushing her thoughts away from StarClan for a moment as she reflected on the Gathering._

_ "Snowingash...told everyone about a prophecy...and everyone looked scared." she said softly._

_ "Correct." the voice said, "And did anything about Snowingash strike you as...familiar?"_

_ "...Yes. He reminded me of a friend of mine...his name's Rushgale. I can't put my paw on it, though...why he reminded me of him."_

_ "Did anyone else remind you of someone?" _

_ Mainstream nodded. "Yes. Sambawish, I think his name was. He looks exactly like Cloudstorm, and he kind of acts like him too. The only visual difference is his age, and his eyes."_

_ "His eyes?"_

_ "Yes...Sambawish's eyes were blue. Cloudstorm's are brown. But what did Sunstar mean when she said they already tried to forestall the prophecy?"_

_ "Ah," the voice said, "that is something else I can't tell you. Not yet, not now. But what I _can _tell you is that things are about to happen. Things you aren't prepared for. You have to reach into the past and fill up the holes in history. It is the only way." _

_It almost said more, but Mainstream saw the edges of her vision starting to lighten; she was waking up._

_ "Wait...! Tell me what's going on!" she exclaimed, looking around for the voice, "What do you mean I have to reach into the past? What do you _mean _I'm not prepared? Prepared for what?"_

_ "Dream."_

_ "What? Wait!"_

_ "Dream!"_

_ The voice faded in a blinding flash of white hot light. The ground beneath Mainstream's paws seemed to pitch forward and she was thrown into the widening whole of awakening._

When her eyes opened and she sat up amongst her friends, whatever memory of her dream faded at the dreadful expressions on their faces.

"What's going on?" she asked urgently, leaping to her paws.

"The Legacy." Rushgale said seriously as they all rushed for the Den entrance, "They've invaded the Province."


End file.
